


Attention

by Hashtagmavin



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anxiety?, M/M, Minor breakdowns in a men's washroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 16:12:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hashtagmavin/pseuds/Hashtagmavin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin isn't a big fan of attention. But the students in his new school appear to be a big fan of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attention

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: High school AU where Gavin is extremely popular in England with Dan from so mo vids and original ideas for videos in general, even having the vids spread to the US. Gavin wants to major in this so he moves to America to do this. The high school he goes to knows him well and the students are all over him. (Gavin has social anxiety/something wrong) but there's this one kid that doesn't even blink an eye at him. A certain red headed kid with a bad temper. That is, until Gavin breaks one day
> 
> Originally posted on Hashtagmavin.tumblr.com

I went through middle school without many friends.

Usually when your hear a kid say that it sounds like a bad thing and you pity them. But I was completely and totally content to be on my own.

I liked the solitude. I liked to just overhear and listen to my other classmates gossiping and laughing with one another. I was never one to be the center of attention, and I was comfortable like that.

Sometimes the other children would come around and talk to me, and I would be polite and talk back but it never lasted long. They’d eventually go back to their own group of friends, and I’d go back to being alone.

I went on like that for a long time. Just by myself, doing my own thing. But then when I started high school, I somehow made a friend.

Our school had this big glass case where we keep all of our trophies from school wins, and I always had to walk by it in order to get to class. On this particular day, I managed to trip over my own feet in front of it and fall to the ground.

I’m not a bullied kid, and nobody laughed or made fun. It was still pretty annoying and embarrassing though. I started to pick up my books and was surprised when I saw another person helping me.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

I look up to see a guy crouched down next to me with short dark hair. I can already tell that he’s taller than me, and a lot stronger.

"Yeah, I’m fine," I nod, standing up once my books are no longer scattered along the floor, "Thanks."

He hands me my books with a simple smile, “No problem. I’m Dan.”

"Gavin," I nod and notice that he has a slip of paper in his hands, "I haven’t seen you around before. Are you new?"

"Yeah, it’s my first day. Trying to find my way to Mrs. Greene’s room." he studies his slip of paper, which I assume is a class schedule.

"Oh, do you have her for chemistry?"

"Yeah."

"I’m in that class too, I can take you there if you want," I offer.

He nods and a grateful smile spreads across his face, “Yeah, I would love that.”

"Come on," I say, smiling at him too. He seems like a nice guy, it’s not going to take him very long to make friends around here.

"Nice shirt, by the way," he mentions casually as we walk down the hall.

"Huh?" I look down and see that I’m wearing one of my Halo t-shirts, "Oh, thanks. You like Halo?"

"Yeah, it’s my favorite game."

"Really? Nobody else around here really plays video games except for me."

"We should hang out sometime and play."

"Yeah," I nod, smiling even wider at the thought, "I’d like that."

Long story short, Dan and I quickly became friends. We were constantly over to each others houses playing video games and just hanging out. I never felt uncomfortable around him or nervous. It felt a lot like when I was by myself, except just less lonely. Now I actually had somebody to talk to and make dumb jokes with. It was nice.

I still remember the day that I told him about my love for slow motion cinematography, and that it was what I wanted to do one day for a living. He thought it was cool, and wanted me to show him what it kind of stuff my new camera could do.

It all ended with us putting a video on youtube and it getting immensely popular. Like,  _really_ popular. Who would have thought that a simple video of us popping a huge water balloon in my backyard would have gotten over a million views!?

But then it quickly escalated into more than that because we started making more videos. It was fun, and it gave us an opportunity to act like the morons we are in front of a camera, and work more with slow motion. Instead of just being Dan and Gavin, we were also  _The Slow Mo Guys_. Our videos were even being featured on talk shows around the world.

My parents understood my love of slow motion cinematography and since I was an only child, they agreed that we should move to America. I was already in my last year of high school, and would be able to go to a good university there afterwards. And since all of our family is still in England, we’d constantly be going back to visit. That way I could still see Dan and we could film more videos. It was perfect.

The only thing I hadn’t expected was my sudden popularity. It turns out that our videos were even more popular in America than they were in England.

Starting at a new school is always difficult no matter what age you are, but it was horrible for me just because of all the attention. I wasn’t just “the new kid from England.” I was “the new kid from England that is famous.”

I’ve always hated attention. The students in my old school were all people that I’d grown up with, so they all knew about it. They didn’t take offense to how quiet I was sometimes or my shy behavior.

These people didn’t know about it. I spent the first week of school being bombarded with questions, eager smiles, people asking if they could be in a video, and even being asked for pictures and autographs. It was insane. They were treating me as though I was some kind of movie star.

And it seemed like everybody was obsessed with me. They spent their time trying to be as close to me as possible and acting like excited puppies.

They started to calm down after a while though. No longer shouting things at me or gasping when I walked down the halls. They still continued to talk to me constantly but I figured I could handle that much.

It wasn’t as bad as before, so I was hoping that eventually their excitement would simmer down so much that they’d treat me just like everybody else. Then I can continue to blend in and be ignored again.

But there was this one boy who never seemed to even look twice in my direction. He had curly reddish brown hair and dark brown eyes that were covered with glasses. But I never got to look at him for very long because he’d catch me and glare.

He also happened to be the person that I accidentally ran into while walking down the hallways. One moment I was walking along normally, my books in hand, and then the next I hit something solid and I’m thrown back onto the floor. My books scattered around me and a blush warming my cheeks.

"Sorry!" I blurt out as soon as I look up to see him standing above me, an eyebrow raised in annoyance. I can see the irritation in his eyes as soon as he notices that it was me that had run into him.

"Whatever," he rolls his eyes when a bunch of people run over, eager to help me up.

"Oh my gosh, Gavin! Are you okay?"

"What happened?"

"Did Michael push you?"

"No!" I yell, "I’m fine. Seriously. I just bumped into him and fell down."

I look back up to look at the boy but I already see that he’s turned around and is walking down the hall away from us.

"Michael Jones is a real prick," one of the girls mutters. I don’t remember her name, and I don’t want to ask her in case she takes offense to it.

"Yeah, thank goodness we got here before he could do anything to you, Gavin." another pipes up.

"Do anything?" I question, taking my books from the girl who picked them up.

"Yeah, haven’t you heard about him?"

"No."

"He’s a total asshole. I heard yesterday that he beat the shit out of Kerry Shawcross behind the school." a guy explains. I don’t know who Kerry is, but then again I don’t really know who any of these people are either.

They continued to tell me things about him as we walked down the hall. Most of it consists of “I heard from my friend…” and “Blah blah blah told me that blah blah blah saw Michael punch a guy in the face.” Just obvious gossip and rumors that they’d heard through the grapevine.

I tried not to think about Michael after that. Besides, I was too busy focusing on new videos, homework, and dealing with my popularity in school.

I know it probably sounds really vain and self-centered to be complaining about attention and popularity, but I’ve just never been  _that_ person. I’d never appreciated it. I liked to not be noticed.

Dan and I filmed a bunch of videos before I moved so that we could slowly release them over the course of my time in America. That way there wouldn’t be any major gaps where we didn’t release anything on our youtube channel.

The first time I uploaded a new video while here, I was happy with it. It was just a silly video of us pouring colorful paint into a speaker and then turning it on. It looked really cool normally, but it looked even more amazing in slow motion.

But when I went to school it was even worse than my first day.

Everybody crowded up around me, asking me about the video, giving praise and compliments about it, demanding more autographs and pictures to post on their Facebooks. I could feel people grabbing at me and yelling at me so that my attention could be focused on them. I’d never been in the middle of such a large group of people who are all fighting to get to me.

I don’t understand why they care so much. It was one video. One! There was nothing  _overly_  special about it compared to the others. Why do they insist on acting as though I’m some kind of celebrity that needs to be worshiped!?

"I…" I start, but my voice is so quiet compared to their shouting and nobody is really paying attention to what I’m saying. They’re closing in tighter on me, and it’s really starting to freak me out.

I can’t deal with this. I can’t do it. I’m going to start crying or vomiting or something. I just need to get away from it all.

The bell rings for classes to start, and even though nobody pays attention to it, I realize that it’s my ticket to freedom. Everybody continues to talk to me at a mile a minute, loudly chattering in my ear and taking pictures with their phones. I try to smile at them politely, try to be as nice as I can, but as soon as the teacher comes over and tells everybody that it’s time to get to class, I bolt to the nearest men’s washroom.

I don’t even care about going to class. My breathing is coming out harsh and I feel unable to control it. It’s like I’m drowning and all I want to do is scream at the top of my lungs until this is all over.

As soon as I enter the room, I let out a sigh of relief when I notice that nobody else is in here. I rest my back against the nearest wall and sink to the floor, burying my face into my knees and arms.

I want to go back to England. I can’t handle being here with people that are always pining for my attention. I can’t deal with it and I end up feeling guilty for wishing that it would all just go away.

I attempt to steady out my breathing but it continues to come out in quick pants.

Damn, I’ve never had such a bad freak out over just being in a crowd before. Usually I’m able to handle it because nobody really pays attention to me anyways, but to have everybody talking and looking at once is just too much for me to take.

It’s like they all want the world from me and I’m physically unable to give it to them. For the first time in my life I’m starting to regret making those videos with Dan. Sure, they’re a lot of fun and they’re opening up a lot of opportunities for me, but I’m not sure how well I can handle this popularity.

It’s only been three weeks since I’ve come to this school. I’d thought I was doing well considering the amount of attention I was receiving from fellow classmates.

I didn’t think putting up a new video would change much, but they’re treating me like I’ve just cured cancer or something! It was just a youtube video, nothing all that special!

If this is what happens every time, I don’t think I’m going to want to put up new videos. I’ve never realized how much easier it is when you aren’t forced to interact with people afterwards.

Usually any praise Dan and I get is through a computer screen. There’s no people jumping up and down treating us like we’re celebrities or asking for our autographs. Everything is so much easier on the internet compared to real life.

I feel tears prick my eyes and I internally curse myself for being so weak.

"Hey…" a voice murmurs, "Are you okay?"

I jump and look up in a panic, not expecting anybody to be in here and catch me. But when I see who it is I’m struck with confusion.

It’s the curly red haired guy. Michael, I think they said his name was. He has a reputation for being angry and getting in fights with other students a lot. I tried to steer clear of him, especially since I ran into him the other day. While all of the other students are desperate for my attention, he couldn’t care less. I’m grateful for that even though I know he isn’t doing it as a favor to me.

Oh God, he’s probably going to beat me up for crying in the boy’s bathroom like a wimp.

"Yeah, I uh…" I stutter and my voice cracks. I try to subtly wipe my damp eyes with the sleeves of my jacket, "Yeah, I’m fine."

"You don’t look fine," he states while giving me a disbelieving look.

I glare up at him but still not finding enough strength within myself to get up. I wish he would just leave me alone to wallow in self pity. He doesn’t react to my annoyance and instead sits down next to me so that we’re both leaning against the wall.

"What are you doing?"

"Sitting with you?" he raises an eyebrow at me as though it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

"I meant why."

He shrugs, “Because you look lonely and in pain.”

I guess that is a pretty accurate description of what I’m feeling right now.

All of my life I’ve been okay with being alone. Just Gavin. I’d always been comfortable with that. Then Dan became the only exception. But now that I’m so far away from him, I do feel alone. I wish he were here with me to do all of this “fan” crap. He’s always been better with social aspects.

It’s quiet for a few moments, just the noise of the loud school vents is filling the air. Michael doesn’t comment on my lack of communication, and instead we just sit there as I think about it all.

"My name is Michael," he finally says quietly.

"I know."

"And you’re Gavin, right? Gavin Free."

"Yeah."

"Or would you prefer  _Mr. Slomoguy_?”

I smirk at that, “Gavin’s good.”

He smiles too, but he turns serious after a few moments, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

"Yeah, I think so," I murmur, trying not to look him in the eyes, "Sorry."

"It’s okay. What’s wrong though? You don’t like the people?"

I sigh. It’s so complicated to explain, and I don’t even know why he’s sitting here with me in the first place. Why hasn’t he called me a rude name yet or threatened to hit me? Maybe he’s just looking for ammunition to use against me. But I really can’t find myself to care at the moment.

"No, not really. I mean, everybody’s really nice to me and they’re all desperate to talk to me. It’s not their fault, I guess. It’s just hard to deal with sometimes. I’ve never been very good in crowds of people, especially when they’re all talking to me at once and shouting stuff."

Michael doesn’t interrupt, he just listens to me talk. But just from the curious and intent expression on his face, I know that he actually cares about what I’m saying. He’s not just tuning me out or ignoring me, so I continue on.

Just endlessly rambling on about how hard it’s been to adjust to having “fans” and people recognizing me in public. Asking for autographs or pictures as though I’m some kind of celebrity. How ridiculous it is and how much it freaks me out at times. It’s not that I’m ungrateful for it, I’m just not used to it. I’m used to being alone and ignored by others. I can’t handle all of this attention and sometimes it’s just so bad that my only solution is to get away from it all. Much like how today ended with me sobbing in the dirty men’s washroom with a boy that hates me.

When I finish he still doesn’t say anything, allowing me to catch my breath when I start to hyperventilate again. He puts a soothing hand on my back, and I feel the warmth from it spread up my spine. It spills into my head and leaves me feeling calmer, more relaxed, and I’m able to control my breathing after a few moments of just focusing on the contact.

"You feel better?" he asks once I begin to calm down.

"I think so," I nod, feeling guilty for rambling on so much and making him listen to it all, "Sorry about that."

"It’s fine," he reassures me, "It seemed like you needed to get some stuff off your chest."

That was an understatement.

Ever since I’d left Dan back at England, I didn’t really have anybody to talk to. It’s not like I would really talk to him about this kind of stuff anyway, but Michael is different somehow. I don’t feel so shy and quiet around him. I feel like I’m actually able to speak my mind and not be worried about the consequences or feedback.

Maybe that’s just because he’s never really cared much about it. If I confided in one of the other students from this school they’d gasp and apologize a million times on everybody else’s behalf, and then ask if they could be in one of my videos. But Michael, the guy who’s been ignoring me ever since I came here, is willing to sit down and actually listen to me.

"You’re the only person in this school who doesn’t treat me like a damn celebrity," I mutter.

"Well yeah." he replies, "But that’s probably just because I thought you were some spoiled brat British kid."

I raise an eyebrow and look toward him, “And you don’t anymore?”

"Of course I do," he states, but I can see the hint of smile on his face as he says it, "But I’m not going to turn my back on somebody when they need help."

"I don’t need help."

"Dude, you’re sitting on the dirty floor of the boy’s bathroom with some guy you’ve just met. I think it’s safe to say you need a little help."

I don’t respond, and silence fills the air for a few moments. I hate feeling like this, like I can’t take care of myself and the only person that can pull me out of it is a stranger in the bathroom.

"It’s okay to need help every once in a while, ya’know? It doesn’t make you weak or any less of a person. It’s normal. Healthy even. Everybody has a rough time in their life at some point, some longer than others." he begins to get up from his place on the floor so that he’s standing in front of me, "And I personally believe that the best way to get through it is with the help of a friend."

He holds out his hand to me, probably to pull me off of the ground so that I can be standing too. But instead I just look back and forth between it and him, slightly suspicious.

"You want to be friends?"

"Yeah, sure," he shrugs, "Why not, right? We’re both just miserable teenagers stuck in high school. And besides, you aren’t as bad as I thought."

I hesitate.

"Come on," he says quietly, his eyes are understanding and comforting as he speaks, "You don’t have to be alone anymore if you don’t want to."

"And what if I want to?"

"Then I’ll back off," he responds easily, "But I’m still going to threaten to beat the shit out of the kids that harass you out in the hallway."

I smile at the thought of Michael charging at them like an angry bull, and all of them scattering away like terrified mice. “They aren’t harassing me. They usually just want autographs or something.”

Michael scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Don’t go all Hollywood on me, dude. I don’t care if they just want to praise you, I’m going to stop them if you don’t like it.”

I’m still not sure if I should take his hand or not. “But why? Why would you want to help me?”

"Because obviously you don’t like the attention. Nobody deserves to be unhappy, not even the spoiled brat British kid." he states, and then smirks, "And also because you’re kinda cute."

I try to look down so that he won’t see the blush rising to my cheeks, but I take his hand anyways. He pulls me up from the ground and to my feet so that I’m standing next to him. He smiles wider when he sees how red my face is.

I playfully shove him, “Shut up.”

He hasn’t let go of my hand yet, but I’m not complaining about it. He snickers and begins to lead me to the door.

"Come on, let’s get out of here."

I nod, knowing that I’m able to leave the safety of the bathroom if I have somebody there by my side who understands. “Thank you, Michael.” I murmur so quietly that I’m almost sure that he didn’t hear it.

"Don’t mention it."


End file.
